nobody, is always somebody
by Ophelia E.S Blackwood
Summary: running away from your past is hard, forgetting your past is harder. when Isabella runs away from her abusive father to the streets, she thinks life couldn't get any worse until she witnesses something never meant for her to see, MOBWARD/DARKWARD
1. Chapter 1

Running away from home

What's it going to be then, eh? Seven words that can mean so little yet so much. The words of some one with choices and decisions make. Some one with paths to walk and a life lead. I think those seven words fit perfectly as to what I was thinking on the night I chose to leave my family and home. Notice how I said _chose_. Well I had a choice and I chose, like always, the wrong one. And that my dear friend is how I ended up on my own, cold and hungry. I could go back you see, hell, maybe, just maybe one day I will. Go back or stay on the streets? To be or not to be that is the question, well, I got the question, no problem, but the answer is what I'm struggling with. I could stay on the streets, or, and it is a very big or I could simply go home. _Simply, _huh, yeah right. Simple my dear friends is diffidently not what it would be. Can you imagine the embarrassment, the shame I would get by going home. I mean what would I say? What would I do? I can see it now, me tottering up the same old cracked stairs leading to the same chipped wooden white door and saying

"Hello mother, I know I've been gone for what, three years? Three and a half? but I'm home now, so, hey, jobs a gooden, right?"

Yeah there's more chance pigs will fly then that ever happening. I mean I even left with out a word, not even a letter of good bye. nothing. Just packed my bags one night and on my golly old way I went. Bit rude if you think about it. So it's probably best you don't think about it at all. That's what I do, and it seems to work pretty well. Considering the circumstances. If I got a problem that's holding my mind hostage, I just act as if I don't care or forget it completely. It's quite easy when your living on the streets to preoccupy your mind else where. It's harder at night. When you have your mind to yourself and the past creeps up on you, then is when the façade comes along. The façade of not caring. But If you tell your self you don't care for long enough. You start to believe, and when you believe you don't have to act. Which is a good thing. You say something so many times after a while you find yourself just believing, then one day you don't have to remind your self that you did the right thing because you believe it in stead. But there are something's that are harder than others to forget. Like my mother for instance, I tried to tell myself that she would be alright with out me, but slowly, piece by piece the walls of that façade started to crumble. Falling down onto me like a ton of bricks. Crushing me, suffocating me, torturously killing me in the most painful of way possible. Until I feel there is nothing left of me to break. Tainted, broken, _nothing_, that's all I am. _Nothing._

See, your all probably wondering how I ended up like this, a broken spirit, tainted by the life of the streets, an empty casket with nothing inside. Well I'll tell you, it all started when I was nine, just a couple of weeks before my tenth birthday. At the time I was obsessed with art, you know drawling and stuff. Well there was this competition I was entered in, it was done at the community center about half an hour away from home, real excited I was. Determined to win. I had never won any thing before and I had a feeling that day was a lucky one. Oh I couldn't of been more wrong.

_Pencils_, pencils were a must have. As you all probably already know you need pencils to draw and with out a pencil or two, and a sharpener, another must have. You can't draw. Well at least not properly. It's just simply impossible. Unless of course you use pen. Which is completely ridiculous in a drawling competition. Any way back to the point, I needed pencils to draw. And pencils is what I left in my room. I had rubbers, sharpeners, rulers, hell, I even had protractors. But no pencils. I had been in such hurry to get every thing right and turn up early to the competition, because early ALWAYS beats late, when your early it shows determination, passion, and dedication to the task at hand, so early for me is another must have.

Anyway, where was I? oh yes, I remember. I was in such a panic of turning up late I had forgot to pick up the pencils in the little metal tin on the bed side table as I passed. It was only when we arrived at the community center that I realized I had left them behind.

Then is when the real panicking started to happen. What if nobody had any spare, what would I do? Dad was already grouchy because we had turned up an hour early, and he was getting bored sat in the small reception seating area. So when I told him I had left my pencils at home. Well lets just say it didn't go down too well. He. Was. Fuming. At this point I was nearly in tears. The day I had waited weeks for. My special day was ruined. I was gutted.

My brother being the caring sole he was sensed my distress and offered to drive back home and collect them. He did. Well. Nearly. he didn't make it home and he didn't make it back to the community center either. The Police said it was nobodies fault, slipped on some oil in the road. And collided with an on coming van. He died three hours later in hospital. After that day it was never the same again. My Father had always had more of a connection with my brother then he did with me. They got along better, liked the same stuff, you know, just bonded well. He hated me my Father did, after that day. Pure hatred. I could see it when he looked at me. Eyes full of disgust, hate, and despair. He loathed the ground I walked on. He told me enough times, he didn't even have to do that, it was blatantly obvious. Couldn't blame him though, he had every right to blame me. My selfish behavior killed my brother, their son. It was all my fault. Mine.

Mum, she wasn't so bad. She tried to make it better, really she did. Every night she would argue when Father came home drunk, she would try and stick up for me. But that only ended up with her being thrown across the room or threatened by my Father. I could tell she was scared of him. We all were. He was totally unpredictable and on the rampage. Truly terrifying. Although Mum was nice to me. It was still hard to be near her, to look into her once bright eyes full of life and happiness which were now dull and full of pain. Pain I had caused.

I had witnessed this for six years and couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't watch my Mothers sanity slowly being stripped form her, couldn't watch her be thrown against another wall. Couldn't suffer any more bruises caused by my Fathers hands. I couldn't take it. Couldn't bare to watch my once happy family be ripped apart any more, I wasn't an idiot I knew my family was past the point of repair. Shattered into shards to sharp to put back together, too small to matter, but big enough to cut me, make me bleed and scream out in mental pain. I was lost, lost in a world of, hate, and despair where nothing had a purpose any more, nothing matters. I couldn't take it.

So I left. Coward. As I said from the start I had a choice and I chose this life style, this world. I didn't have to go I could have stayed. For my Mother. To protect her. But no, selfish me strikes again. I convinced myself that if I left it would all be better. For every one. Father, me, Mum every one. Because I wouldn't be there any more to ruin things. But who was I kidding. I knew I was leaving for my own benefit not any body else's. _I _was sickened by the sun, suppressed by fear, tired of my Fathers senseless hate, burdened by all the little peaces of hope falling, shattering, bound to a life of hate and loathing. I. couldn't. Take. It.

I do often wonder how my Mum is coping, she is something no façade could fix. I will often lay in a hard, cold doorway drunk with fatigue, knowing sleep will not come. Just, thinking of her. Some times I forget what she looks like and have to look at the small picture I stole the night I left to be reminded. That scares me. I forget my own mothers face who does that?

You want to know who I am. I'll tell you. I am _nothing. _


	2. Chapter 2

_**hello sorry i took so long only just found out how to upload a file (i'm not that good with laptops) hope you enjoy! please review**_

I shivered, my teeth rattled, my hands. Numb, my lips. Cracked. My feet. Burned. And I, froze.

You see that's what people don't think of when they see some unfortunate man, woman or even a child homeless. They think failure. Drunk, druggie, some fear you others pity you. And others, well they don't know what to think, they are the ones who avoid all eye contact and give you a wide berth, hoping you didn't notice them.

But what you don't know, what no one can possibly imagine unless they have been homeless, is what life is like on the streets well I'll tell you.

Trying to find somewhere to sleep at night is murder, cold or warm, sheltered or not, it's a dog eat dog world out here and the strongest wins. But even if you are very fortunate and manage to find a door way or ally-way or some place like that to stay, the next battle you face is sleeping, imagine it, spending all night sat or lying on solid brick, every part of you aches, no matter what position you are in you wake stiff, you freeze from being still for a long period of time, and you always and I mean ALWAYS need to sleep with one eye open.

During the night other homeless people try and steal your stuff, or even on occasion try and get in your sleeping bag with you, dunks coming out late from near by night-clubs and pubs looking for a fight not caring that you are alone and so weak you can not possibly defend yourself like they can so you find your self beat or even dead, they piss or puke on you, because your seen as nothing of an importance, nobody cares, the girls are raped, more often than you would think, and some taken away into forced prostitution, because nobody cares, but most of them one way or another turn to prostitution just to stay alive at night, it's hard being a girl and living rough at night you are the most vulnerable out there. Other men homeless or not see you as an easy target. Woman don't survive for very long on the streets it's impossible, and just the knowledge of that. The fear drives them to doing stupid things, like prostitution or trying to find a "trusting" man to take care of you. The things I have witnessed are enough to drive anyone insane.

I am a woman, but not yet a prostitute or anything like that, because I have learnt my lesson I no longer try to mug people like I have seen so many men on the streets do, they have power on there side, I have nothing but hope and all that's ever gotten me is black eyes and a bruised body. I don't try and fight someone who wants my bench or doorway I am sleeping in, I never sleep near pubs or night clubs, I beg and keep stay low, some may call me a push over, but 99.9% of the time it's a man trying to steal your things or nick your space, and if there's one thing I've learnt it's to not fight the men they will ALWAYS win. Begging may sound easy, it's not, you may get one pound a week or less or even ten pounds or more it depends on the week and if some one decides to steal it or not, which happens probably every week. That's what you don't think of when you chuck change at a beggar most of the time that beggar doesn't keep the money other homeless people and even not homeless people steal it because they want it. So in the end that beggar is still left with no food or money.

What I have just told you in not even the half of it, when you are homeless you can't escape being pushed around, beat, puked on, pissed on (by animals as well as humans), prostitution, trafficking, verbally and physical abuse, hunger, starvation, hyperthermia, dehydration, embarrassment and the others, it will never stop, because no one cares because to others you are nothing. You are nobody.


	3. Chapter 3

_**answers to some peoples questions:**_

_**when will you update next: i honestly don't know, i don't get alot of chance to go on word doc to write so when i do i will. i always get ideas popping up in my head lol i dont know were this story is going i just write and hope for the best but i do know that at the moment i think it's all going to be wrote in past tense, but i may change my mind, i do it alot lol**_

_** when is edward coming into the stoy:next chapter hopeful i'm just trying to build a story of bella with out edward and how her life changes**_

_**why have you updated the same chapter loades of times: i was an accident didn't know how to update a chapter (like i said i'm bad with laptops) it's been a pain for me too i've spent ages trying to update it's quite annoying when you've wrote a chapter and can't update it!**_

_**any way i think this is all the questions if you have any more drop us a message :) **_

_**till next time**_

_**oph xx  
><strong>_


	4. Chapter 4

_**hello!**_

_**sorry for not updating as soon as i would like, i've been really busy with the farm, horses, exams, friends, karate and riding. and also smoking and dusty hay and straw has given me a very painful case of farmers lung. updates should be ever other week, i just casn't find all that much time at the moment. :(**_

_**sorry if this chapter is a bit off, i am feeling really unwell and can hardly breath.  
><strong>_

**cheers muckers!**

**prt  
><strong>

Many people when they see a homeless person walk by pretending they hadn't noticed you. Avoiding eye contact and giving you a wide berth. He probably would of too, if we had met under different circumstances.  
>This is the story of my life. Me Isabella Swan, my life and how one man changed it, his name was Edward Cullen, a man of all girls dreams, handsome, polite, cleaver, too cleaver for his own good, but still clever, a right gentleman he was. However he was also selfish and mean, afraid of nothing and nobody, he was a killer, a murderer, and i loved him.<br>I could tell you this is a story of love at first sight, knights in shining Armour and pretty white wedding dresses, I'd be lying. This is a story of romance yes, but most of all this is a story about lie's and deceit, love and hate and tragedy but most importantly, atonement.

Edward and i met on one of the worst days of my life, no romantic setting and vows to love and hold you forever, a cold damp ally during on winter night, a murder, lots of screaming and a kidnapping.

**pt**

**Bloody hell it's cold, i thought wrapping my arms around myself in an attempt to stay warm. I was jogging down Tikly way street after getting kicked out of the shelter. Apparently i had "been here too long" or so that is what they told me. However i do have new clean clothes on my back, and I'm not too dirty, Ms. Jane made sure of it. Gave me some of her old clothes and managed to get me some time in the shower. She's my only friend, I've know her the whole time I've been homeless, she's kind and will help me out when ever she can, i think she feels sorry for me and is probably drawn to me because I'm probably the only homeless person she knows who is not rude, drunk, drugged up, or just plain nasty; I'll always smile and say hello even on a right down day. **

**_oh my god i am so cold _i thought turning to walk down an ally way by the little post - office on New Checknem Road, an ally way i like to call home, always deserted, not so deserted tonight, about four step in a i stopped dead, infornt of me stood three massive, built like a brick shit house, scary looking men, each wearing expensive looking suits standing with their back to me, in a triangle shaped formation, one man in front of two other, both at his side but standing back a bit, but what made me stop dead in my tracks, freeze pure with fear, is what the tallest man, the front man, was what he was pointing at the fat, stubby man who was actually cowering where he stood, making the three men in front of him look all the more powerful.  
><em>A gun.<em>**

**"thank you, for the information, _Richards_," a velvet voice sneered which I'm assuming came from the tall man "shame," is all he huffed, before the gun shot rang through the air making the man named Richard fall to the floor, and blood go every where, making me scream, Making all three suit wearing scary looking, _Murderous _men turn and stare at me. I managed to make eye contact with the leaders cold green eyes, before all three men were chasing me, flight or flight kicked in and for obvious reasons flight won, i ran and they followed. I had hardly made it a couple of strides before strong arms wrapped around my middle flinging me to the floor as if i weighed nothing causing a shooting pain in my head and the world to go black.  
><strong>

**pt**

So as you can see, my relationship with Edward didn't start of romantic at all. Sometimes i wonder if it was fate that brought us together, made me and Edward meet down that usually deserted ally way, some times i wonder what would of happened if they had let me stay at the shelter like i had begged them to allow, i wonder if i would have found happiness, love and experienced all that i have, if i would have still been alive even, and other times i wonder if i could go back in time and stop myself ever meeting Edward, and made myself carry on walking or turn a different way i wonder if i would.

**Thank you for reading. like always pleeeeeeeeeeease review, im not so sure if i like this chapter something just off about it, i just can't seem to put my finger on what it is. hmmm. if you can please let us know  
>:o)<strong>

**Cheers Babbs **

**till next time**

**oph**

**xx  
><strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**helllllllooooooo! i am not no longer ill and can return to writing me story. i aint got much time to right things at the moment, and i was upstairs on me oddy knocky bored out me eye brows and i thought, i know i can write a malenky_ bit more of me story. so, here it is_**

**_hope you enjoy!_**

**_pst_**

**_I'll never forget how me and edward first met, he wasn't the moste caring person, quite cruel if you ask me, but no matter how cruel he was, there was something els hidden in the deepest darkest part of his mostely cold eyes, an emotion that could only be described as anguish_**

**_pt_**

"Arrrgh" i groaned clutching the back of my head and curling into a small ball on my stomatch, my head felt as if it would explode if i moved even the slightest bit.

"Oh, god," i wept feeling my already blury eyes well with unshead tears, i couldn't take the pain.

"Yeah, umm, sorry about that," a deep masculine voice sounded from somewhere in the room, causing me to sniffle and stiffen, hiding my face and trying to be as quite as humanly possible, holding my breath and wishing i was back on the streets. "hey, I'm not going to hurt you," he said whilst reaching out to grab me, i screamed causing unbearable pain in my head, grabbed my head again, rolling of what i now know was a sofa, yelping in pain and lying in a fetal position on the hard concreate floor i cried out.

"No, no get away" i whimmpered in a barely audible whispered. Sneaking a peak at him between my fingers which were currently covering my face, he was huge, at least six foot two of pure muscle. that fact alone caused my eyes to wide in fear and making me shuffle back against the sofa, lictually trying to hide under it.

"you'll hurt yourself, stop, i said i wasn't going to hurt you," he replied looking down at me with sad, worried eyes.

"D-Don't, don't hurt me," i pleaded, if he hit me it would have more of an affect than my Father of any of the men on the street ever had,

"I'm not going to, but you need to calm down and let me take a look at your head, i don't want to scare you but It's important that you ley me take a look, you were hit very hard and I need to make sure your ok. Now you can either stay still and let me check you or I'll have to call some of the men to hold you down," he pronounced each word very slowly reaching for me again. I screamaed causing my head to burn even more and my arms to hit and scatch every part of him i could reach untill he had successfully captured bothy my wrists in one of his, i fought against them with all i had.

"Felix, James" he shouted out, two men both huge but clearly smaller than the man who had my wrists caged in his hand walked in through a door the other side of the room "Hold her down," was all Mr. Muscule said before who i now know is James and Felix started towards me. I screamed the loudest i could and started freaking out, shaking my extreamly painful head back and forth, kicking out and yanking my wrists. Neather James of Felix could get a hold of me, with all my struggling.

A door banging adainst a wall caused every one in the room to freeze, even me, i looked over to were the sound came from. A man taller than all thre men trying to hold me down stormed in. This man screamed danger and power. stanging at atleast six foot three and a half.

"Damd it Emmett" Mr. Lanky snapped at Mr. Muscle or should i say Emmett. "Do i have to do evert thing myself, three men, three MEN and you still can't hold down one GIRL who is barley tall enough to reach my shoulder, and you still can't hold her down, i should shoot you all, save me the hassle of dealing with your cock ups," he growled. Reaching inside his suit he pulling out a _oh god_ a-a gun, making all thre men holding me and scramble back leaving me frozen in fear on the floor.

"Edward," Emmett warned taking a step back.

"Shut up" Mr. Lanky A.K.A Edward snapped back, "You," he growled pointing the gun at me "You, are going to stay the fuck still,"

**hope you enjoyed this chapter! please review**

**cheers Muckers **

**oph**

**xx**


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